


Fearless

by aerococonut



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Getting Together, Knee dislocation (warning), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerococonut/pseuds/aerococonut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since they became friends, Oikawa’s always been by Iwaizumi’s side. They’ve grown up together, shared experiences, beaten the odds. Iwaizumi’s always told him to be fearless, but in the end it’s Iwaizumi who makes the first move.</p>
<p>Or: Five times Iwaizumi told Oikawa to be fearless, and the one time Iwaizumi was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fearless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zygodactyls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zygodactyls/gifts).



> A little something I wrote for my dear friend Kirby's birthday.
> 
> *Just be warned, there's a brief scene of Oikawa's knee dislocating. If that (and hospitals) aren't your thing, then skip part 4.

**1.**

Yanking his hat on over his spiky black hair, Iwaizumi considered himself dressed. His white shirt, brown shorts and plain sandals were his usual bug catching outfit. Rustling through the first aid cabinet, he grabbed a bandaid and slipped it into his pocket. His mother had taught him to always be prepared. That probably meant he should bring a water bottle too. Having located a bottle, Iwaizumi strode outside to fetch his net and bug cage.

The morning sun warmed the pavement and illuminated the cracks where bugs liked to hide. Iwaizumi could hear cicada song, and he spent a few moments wondering if he should try and catch one before they disappeared for the day. In the end he shrugged and decided to leave it for now. There would be plenty of chances to catch one later tonight, when they were out in full force. Right now, he was on a mission to catch as many different bugs as he could. Was ten too many? Or was that a good start?

Who cared?

Luck seemed to support his venture, sending a beetle crawling along the pavement in front of him. Its iridescent green shell glittered in the sunlight, catching his attention like a beacon. Iwaizumi crept forward, net at the ready. With careful aim, he swung the net over the beetle. “Gotcha!” he cheered. With deft hands, he tilted the net upside down and dropped the beetle into the cage. One down! Proud of himself, Iwaizumi resumed the hunt, his success bolstering him up.

He had no trouble catching bugs two and three, letting them join the beetle in the cage. His fourth bug, a dragonfly, was too fast for his chubby legs, flitting out of reach before Iwaizumi could scoop it up. He kicked a pebble across the pavement and promised to get it next time.

Iwaizumi found himself moving in the direction of his favourite park. He liked playing Godzilla in the sandbox. Building castles and smashing them was the best thing.

The park was deserted when he got there, apart from a small boy sitting on the swings. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and big tears rolled down his face. His whole body shook, and he kept hiccuping between sobs.

Iwaizumi studied him and found the source of the problem; a red gash on the boy's knee. Blood trickled down the boy's pale leg. With his nose scrunched up, he looked like an alien.

“Oi,” Iwaizumi called, getting his attention. “You look like an alien.” With that opening statement, he poked the smaller kid in the forehead.

The boy blinked up at him, sniffling. “I like aliens,” he said quietly, wiping his eyes. “They're cool.” That said, he looked Iwaizumi up and down. “Who are you?”

“Hajime,” Iwaizumi answered, putting a hand on his hip. “Iwaizumi Hajime. Who are you?”

“Oikawa Tooru,” the boy sniffed. “I hurt my knee,” he whimpered, hand hovering above the injured limb.

Iwaizumi knelt next to him, checking out the wound. “Don't worry Tooru, it's just a small graze. You'll be fine.” He remembered the bandaid in his pocket and grinned. “I'm prepared! See?” He whipped out the bandaid, brandishing it in front of Tooru. “I'll fix it right up.” He used the bottom of his pants to wipe away most of the blood, before peeling away the sticky bits and slapping the bandaid over the graze. “There! All better.”

Tooru examined his new fashion statement, his face scrunching up. “Why does it have dinosaurs on it?” he asked, poking at the edges.

“I like dinosaurs,” Iwaizumi grumbled. Who didn't like dinosaurs?

“Aliens are better!” Tooru stamped his foot and pouted. After a moment his face fell and he looked away. “Well, dinosaurs are cool too, I guess.” He gulped in a breath and smiled at Iwaizumi, showing crooked teeth. “Wanna be my friend?” His brown eyes were huge, shining up at Iwaizumi full of hope.

Iwaizumi shrugged and set his net and cage aside. “Okay.” He sat on the swing next to Tooru. What did he talk about now? “How did you hurt yourself?” He pointed at Tooru's knee. Why was he at the park to begin with?

“I fell over playing volleyball,” Tooru said. He pointed at a colourful ball sitting behind his feet.

Iwaizumi had missed seeing it, since his attention had been focused on Tooru. “What's volleyball?” he asked, having never heard of it.

Tooru's eyes went impossibly wide and he leapt off the swing. “How could you not know what volleyball is?” he shrieked, outstretched arm pointed at Iwaizumi's face. “It's the coolest sport! People jump up and hit a ball across the net, and they have to try and block the other team. Whoever gets the most points first wins!”

It sounded kind of boring, but Iwaizumi didn't want to disappoint his new friend. “Show me how to play,” he demanded instead.

“Okay!” Tooru grinned, good mood restored. He ran over to the grassy area of the park, the ball clutched in both hands. “I throw the ball to you, and you hit it! We have to practice the beginning stuff before we can learn more fun things.” Without warning, he threw the ball towards Iwaizumi. It went wide, missing Iwaizumi by a few metres.

Iwaizumi scowled at him. “That was bad.”

“Mean!” Tooru grumbled, but ducked his head. “Sorry. I'll get better. Let's try again.” He threw the ball again, still sending it too far out of Iwaizumi's reach. “Hey! You have to run for it!” he shouted, waving his hands in the air. “And then _wham!_ Hit the ball!”

“Why don't you run after it?” Iwaizumi glared at him, wondering it the kid really knew what he was doing.

“But what if I hurt my knee more?” Tooru asked, his shoulders slumping. “I don't have to run after it if I throw you the ball.”

He looked so sad that Iwaizumi felt bad. His mother had given him special words for when he needed to do something that scared him. Maybe Tooru needed to hear them too? He walked up to Tooru. “You have to be strong! Brave!” Iwaizumi clenched his fists and punched the air. “You have to be fearless!”

“What does that mean?” Tooru tilted his head to the side.

“It means...” Iwaizumi frowned, trying to put it into words. “It's like...even if you're scared, you have to do things. You can't run away from them, because otherwise you miss out on cool things.” He nodded, pleased with himself at that explanation.

Tooru nodded slowly, chewing on his bottom lip. “Okay, I guess I can give it a try. Let's be fearless!”

“Good.” Iwaizumi picked up the discarded ball and passed it to Tooru. “Now throw me the ball. I want to try hitting it again.”

**… … …**

**2.**

Seated in his classroom, Iwaizumi stared at the clock and willed it to move faster. Five minutes until lunch. The five minutes dragged on, but finally the bell rang, signalling freedom. Iwaizumi gathered up his stationary and tucked it into his bag. Placing his lunch on his desk, he started eating the handmade bento he’d packed himself.

He hadn’t even finished the first _onigiri_ when the relative peace of his classroom was shattered. Yells echoed through the walls, muffled by distance. Were they coming from the classroom over? Iwaizumi swallowed, dread rising in his stomach. Oikawa’s classroom was a couple over, and he was often teased by the bigger boys. With a scowl, Iwaizumi abandoned his lunch and went to locate the noise.

Sure enough, he stood outside Oikawa’s classroom, the yelling louder here. Heaving a sigh, Iwaizumi flung open the door. As he’d expected, he found Oikawa sitting on the ground, surrounded by a group of laughing boys. Everyone else in his classroom had hit their growth spurts early, while Oikawa remained small. His lack of height made him the natural scapegoat. The boys knew how to reinforce the point, aiming their taunts to strike Oikawa in his weak points.

“You’re such a baby! Look at you, always crying.”

“Nerd! Look at you.”

“Come on, stand up for yourself! Or are you waiting for _Iwa-chan_ to come and rescue you?”

Oikawa gave a strangled sob, hunching in on himself. His hands scrubbed under his eyes to hide his tears. More kept replacing them though. “Leave me alone!” Oikawa cried out, slamming a fist in the ground. It was a pathetic attempt to stand up for himself, but at least he was trying. “Why do you keep picking on me? I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Your ugly freckled face and stupid braces make me mad! You’re such a big nerd,” one boy jeered, cocking a hip. From his height and position, he seemed to be the leader of the group.

“Yeah, the way he always answers the teacher’s questions gets on my nerve. How about you let someone else be smart?” Another one piped up from next to the leader.

Iwaizumi had heard enough. “Shut up!” he shouted, getting their attention. “You have no right to bully someone!” He pushed past their ranks and knelt next to his friend. “So what if he answers questions? The whole point of school is to learn. Maybe you should try studying instead of bullying someone else!” He grabbed under Oikawa’s arms and pulled him back to his feet. “You lot are the worst,” he told the crowd, fixing them with a glare. “You pick on someone smaller than yourself just to make yourselves feel good. You’re all losers.” Iwaizumi held up his fists. “If you want to keep bullying Oikawa, then fight me.” Most of them surpassed him in height, but that wouldn’t stop him defending Oikawa. It was a deep seated need; he had to protect his best friend.

Nobody stepped forward, so Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa’s arm and towed him out of the room. He led them down the corridors until they were outside, fresh sunlight bathing them in its radiance. Now that they were away from the bullies, Iwaizumi whirled around to face Oikawa. “You okay?” His eyes flicked over Oikawa from head to toe, checking for injuries. Thankfully he didn’t spot any blood, but that didn’t mean Oikawa didn’t have bruises, or that he wasn’t upset by their hurtful words. Oikawa hid his true feelings to try and act cool in front of others.

“I’m better now,” Oikawa told him, poking Iwaizumi’s arm. “Iwa-chan came to save me!” He waved a hand in the air, the other one placed on his hip. “It was just their usual stuff; pushing me over and calling me names. I’m not hurt.” He shrugged, lips downturned. “Who cares what they say?” From the way he hugged himself, Oikawa cared. He always did. It was hard for him to make friends, and being the smallest boy in the class put a target on his back.

He hated it. “Jerks,” Iwaizumi hissed, sending the window a glare. “Their comments are stupid, you know that right?” Poking Oikawa in the middle of his forehead, Iwaizumi drew himself up and pointed at Oikawa. “You can’t help having freckles. They’re part of you.” He tapped his lips, drawing Oikawa's attention. “And your braces are to help your teeth be straight. You’ll be able to take them off after a while, and then who cares? You’ll have the best smile out of the class.” He gave Oikawa two thumbs up.

Oikawa beamed at him, flashing a mouthful of metal. “Iwa-chan,” he sang.

The unfairness of it all rankled. Iwaizumi dropped his hands onto Oikawa’s shoulders and grinned at him. “Don’t let them get to you, alright? You’re better than them.”

“Iwa-chan is always so nice to me,” Oikawa hummed, giving a peace sign. He'd picked up the habit sometime this year. “I promise not to let it get to me.”

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi grumbled, ignoring the first comment. “What do they know, anyway? You’re not a crybaby.” He reached over to tug on a piece of Oikawa’s fluffy hair. “After all, we both know that you’re strong.” Leaning over, he whispered the last few words in Oikawa’s ear. “You’re brave. You’re _fearless.”_ Ever since Iwaizumi had spoken those words at the park, they’d become a mantra for the two boys. A spoken proof of their experiences.

Oikawa’s eyes shone. One hand came up to cover his mouth, hiding the braces. “Do you really believe that?” There was a cautious hope hidden in the words.

“Duh.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and punched Oikawa’s arm. “Now come on. We still have some time, so let’s play some volleyball. Your serves still suck which means you should work on them.”

“Fine,” Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms. “But my serves do not suck! I’m getting much better with my aim. You just can’t hit the ball properly!” He skipped ahead to avoid Iwaizumi’s response.

They bickered the whole way to the outdoor court.

**… … …**

**3.**

It wasn't until they reached high school that Oikawa finally came into his own. He'd lost the braces, giving him straight white teeth, his hair was soft and bouncy, and not a single acne spot dared besmirch his face. Puberty did wonders for Oikawa, and girls noticed. Girls noticed him _a lot_.

It was kind of annoying, Iwaizumi thought, watching yet another girl come up to Oikawa and hold out a pink envelope. Why were they always pink, too? Wouldn't a less girly colour make more sense? Alright, so maybe Iwaizumi hadn't gotten a confession letter yet, but that didn't mean he couldn't tease Oikawa. He scowled at his best friend. What did girls even see in him? Sure, he was pretty, but so were other guys.

_He's not interested_ , Iwaizumi informed the girl, via mental communication. Oikawa always rejected the girls, saying he had to put volleyball first and he didn't have time for a relationship. Which was true; Oikawa spent all his free time practicing his serve or watching old volleyball matches on DVD. When he wasn't demanding twenty more minutes because he was _this close to getting that spin right, Iwa-chan!_

Sure enough, Oikawa rubbed the back of his neck and bowed, giving the girl a sheepish grin.

Even without being close enough to hear, Iwaizumi could read the denial in his body language. Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi leaned into the wall. It was always the same.

The girl nodded, her face falling and her shoulders dropping. She said something else, before turning and hurrying away.

Oikawa bounced over to him, pink card clasped in one hand.

“Broke another girl's heart?” Iwaizumi teased. “You jerk.” There was no venom in his voice.

“I always feel so bad, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, tucking the card into his bag and adjusting the strap across his shoulder. “They're so nice and pretty and I just can't say yes. Think of how much my volleyball would suffer if I dated a _girl!”_ He flung an arm over his eyes, ever the drama queen. “And besides, how could I pick just one? There's so many lovely girls that I couldn't _bear_ to choose!”

Iwaizumi groaned and whacked the back of Oikawa's head. Striding away from the hall, he threw over his shoulder, “You're such a loser, who the hell would want to date you?”

Oikawa squawked and ran after him, long legs covering the distance between them with ease. “You're just jealous girls like me more,” he sniffed, sticking his nose in the air. With a smirk, he slung an arm around Iwaizumi's shoulders. “If you weren't so scary looking, I'm sure you'd be more popular, Iwa-chan.” He ran a hand through his hair, flashing that radiant smile. “Then again, girls would still probably prefer me. I'm much prettier.” He’d shot up in height, now standing half a head taller than Iwaizumi. A fact he constantly bragged about.

“I'll punch your pretty face,” Iwaizumi threatened. He shoved his hands in his pocket and kept walking. He didn't have time for girls, not when he had volleyball and college applications to worry about.

“Mean!” Oikawa pouted, bumping his shoulder. “But Iwa-chan...” he trailed off, biting his lip. His expression had lost all joviality. “What if I like someone, but they don't like me back?” His gaze flicked to Iwaizumi's, before dropping away

Iwaizumi stopped dead, his mouth falling open. This was something out of the blue. As far as he'd known, Oikawa had never mentioned a romantic interest. “Uhh...well, have you tried asking this person?” Possibly the stupidest advice he could give. “I mean, are you _sure_ they don't like you? Or is it more that you feel awkward and you're not sure?” Iwaizumi gave a shrug and scratched the back of his head. What else could he say? “Maybe try inviting them out for lunch or something?” he offered. “Lunch is casual, so it doesn't always scream 'date'. You can hang out and talk, and maybe it'll go from there.”

Oikawa was nodding, but his brows still drew together, forming lines across his forehead. “Yeah but what if they don't like me _like that?”_ he asked quietly.

At a complete loss, Iwaizumi stared at him for a moment. In the end, he reached out to poke Oikawa's forehead, the pads of his fingers smoothing out the wrinkles. “Keep frowning like that and you'll have wrinkles by the time you're thirty,” Iwaizumi said, before shrugging again. “I don't know, Oikawa. I don't think you can force someone to like you if they don't feel the same way. The best you can do is ask them about it. If they reject you, then I guess that's their choice and you have to respect that. You'll have to try and move past it.” Seeing Oikawa slump forward caused guilt to rise in Iwaizumi's stomach. He cast about for something hopeful to say. “Who knows? Maybe they do feel the same way, they're just as afraid as you are,” he said, careful to lighten his voice.

“I'm afraid of being rejected,” Oikawa whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. “What if I admit how I feel, and I end up wrecking a friendship? I don't know if it's worth the risk when their friendship is important to me.”

_When did Oikawa start feeling like this?_ Iwaizumi blinked at him, feeling like he'd been hit in the head with a volleyball. “I really don't know,” he admitted. “I wasn't even aware you liked anyone, so this whole thing is unexpected to me.”

Oikawa drew in a breath, his eyes going wide. “I don't like anyone!” he screeched, jabbing Iwaizumi in the stomach. “This is a hypothetical situation!” He crossed his arms and scrunched up his face.

“What the hell?” Iwaizumi glowered at him, rubbing the place Oikawa had poked. “Here I was thinking you needed help, and you're just making up some stupid story?” That's what he got for trusting Oikawa to be serious! Inhaling, Iwaizumi counted to ten in his head. “I want to punch you right now,” he said, after reaching his goal and still feeling murderous.

Skipping out of reach, Oikawa flashed his pearly smile over his shoulder. “I wasn't kidding about the fear of rejection,” he said, turning back to look at Iwaizumi from under his lashes. “I hate the idea of not being good enough.”

And then Iwaizumi understood. It always came back to Oikawa's insecurities; the feeling of _not being good enough_. “Hey, Oikawa, don't worry about it,” he reassured, dropping a hand onto Oikawa's shoulder and squeezing. “You're the strongest person I know. No matter what happens, you'll be brave enough to face it when it comes.” He winked. “Be fearless.”

Oikawa sighed, looking forlorn. “I wish it was as easy as you make it out to be.” With that, he started heading in to class.

**… … …**

**4.**

“Come on, Iwa-chan, just one hour?” Oikawa pleaded, hands clasped in prayer and his chocolate eyes huge. They’d been headed home, but somehow ended up outside the gym. Or Oikawa had led them there seemingly by accident because he wanted to practice, which sounded more likely. “I need to practice my serves! Otherwise that brat Tobio-chan will overtake me before I know it,” Oikawa continued, a scowl pulling his lips down.

“Are you still harping on over that?” Iwaizumi groaned, but followed Oikawa into the gym regardless. In the locker room, he yanked his shirt off in one movement, reaching over to grab his practice shirt. Reaching up to slip his practice shirt over his head, he heard a squeak from Oikawa. “What?” he grumbled, shooting Oikawa a glare.

His face bright red, Oikawa shrieked, “Nothing!” He whirled around so fast his hair flicked him in the face. “L-let’s hurry up and get ready!”

“I’m waiting on you, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi informed him, rolling his eyes. Some things never changed.

Soon enough they were both on the court; stretching, setting up the net and pushing out the ball cart. Once everything was organised, they fell into a smooth routine of toss-set-spike, emptying the ball cart in short order.

“Nice, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa grinned, eyes flashing. It had been the perfect set, the ball flying straight into Iwaizumi’s waiting hand and smacking into the ground on the other side with a boom. “One more!” he called.

Iwaizumi’s answering grin was all he needed to pick up another ball.

Oikawa jumped up, hitting the ball with all his might in one of his terrifying jump serves. The ball left his hand perfectly, the motion fluid and precise. And then Oikawa landed, hitting the ground at just the wrong angle and causing his knee to pop out. Oikawa crashed to the floor, his scream filling the gym. His hands fluttered above his knee, his face gone deathly pale.

Iwaizumi was by his side in a heartbeat, collapsing onto his knees and placing his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders. “Oikawa!” he gasped out, his hands moving up to grip Oikawa’s face and forcing him to look at Iwaizumi.

Big tears rolled down Oikawa’s face, and he gasped for breath between sobs. “Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, my knee-”

“You’re going to be okay,” Iwaizumi told him, his gaze dropping to see the swelling redness of Oikawa’s knee. What did you do in this situation? He inhaled sharply and dropped his hands. “Oikawa, listen to me.” He waited until Oikawa met his eyes. “I’m going to go call for emergency services, okay? We’ll get you to the hospital and they’ll fix you up.” He grabbed both of Oikawa’s hands between his. “I need you to stay still, alright? Take deep breaths and try and calm down. You have to stay still or it could make it worse.”

Oikawa’s body shook, but he managed to nod twice, the motion sharp and jerky. “Okay Iwa-chan,” he choked out, but his eyes followed Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi raced back into the locker room, digging out his phone and tapping in the numbers. From there, it was a blur; explaining what had happened and giving their address. He was told to keep Oikawa still and try to calm him down. At least he’d gotten that right. Iwaizumi hung up and grabbed an armful of spare towels before returning to Oikawa.

He opened the towels and wrapped them around Oikawa’s shoulders and back, and across his lap, careful to avoid his knee. Once Oikawa was warm enough, Iwaizumi sat next to him, making sure not to jostle him. “You’ll be fine, Oikawa,” he kept repeating, hoping it was true. His mind kept throwing up worst case scenarios.

“What if,” Oikawa mumbled, hunching under the towels. “What if I’m not? What if the doctors say I can’t play anymore?” He swiped a hand under his eyes, sniffing loudly.

Whether his tears were from pain or fear, Iwaizumi couldn’t tell. “Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, and then stopped, unsure how to continue. What reassurance could he offer?

“I might never play volleyball again!” Oikawa wailed.  

“Hey!” Iwaizumi barked, digging his fingers into Oikawa’s shoulder hard enough to get his attention. “Don’t worry about right now! You’re going to be fine, and you will play again.” He willed Oikawa to listen, to tear himself out of his bad thoughts. “How am I supposed to be the ace if my trusty setter is gone? We can’t win Nationals without you, so of course you’re going to be fine.” Iwaizumi bumped their shoulders together. “Now stop this whining. Take a deep breath and calm down.”

Oikawa did as he was told, his face losing some of its panic. “Thanks Iwa-chan,” he sighed, dropping his head to rest on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His body still shook, sending vibrations through Iwaizumi, but at least his sobs had stopped. “Why are you so calm?” he whispered, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “I’m so afraid. I can’t stop thinking about the future.”

Iwaizumi brought a hand up to run his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, knowing the motion would soothe him. “You might be afraid for a moment, but I know you. At your core, you’re strong and brave. Practically fearless.” He managed a small smile.

Oikawa grabbed his hands and threaded their fingers together. “I wish I was how you saw me,” he murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

“You are,” Iwaizumi told him.

After what felt like an age, the paramedics arrived, shooting off questions and hustling Oikawa off to the hospital. Iwaizumi gave terse answers to the questions, wanting nothing more than to hurry after his friend. He knew Oikawa would be freaking out again, but he also needed to know for his own peace of mind. If the doctors told Oikawa he couldn’t play anymore it would _wreck_ him. He’d need all the emotional support he could get.

…

Iwaizumi strode through the hospital, bouquet of yellow flowers gripped in one hand and a packet of milk bread in the other. He was exhausted; a sleepless night after a traumatic day, and he was finally going to see Oikawa.

Iwaizumi had raced to the hospital after his interrogation, but had been turned away, saying Oikawa was getting an MRI and possible surgery, and therefore wouldn’t be able to receive visitors until the following day. So here he was, tired and full of fear for his best friend.

He rapped his knuckles on the door of Oikawa’s room to announce himself before walking in.

Oikawa was sitting up in bed, his injured knee propped up and covered in a white cast. His gaze flicked to the side to see who it was, and his expression brightened. “Iwa-chan!” he sang. “Come to break me out of this prison?” His voice went flat, his brows pulling down.

Iwaizumi crept forward and perched awkwardly on the side of Oikawa’s bed. “Hey. How are you doing?” He presented Oikawa with the flowers and bread. He wasn’t sure if Oikawa was allowed to eat milk bread, but gave it to him anyway. His eyes dropped to the cast.

“Dislocated,” Oikawa sneered, voice bitter. “The doctors say I was lucky not to have torn any tendons, or broken the skin. I could easily have shattered a bone. I’m _lucky_ ,” he snarled.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Iwaizumi looked away. He didn’t know what to say to help. His eyes fell on the crutches propped against the end of the bed. “So how do I take care of you?” he asked, knowing Oikawa would try to push himself past his limits if he wasn’t supervised.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched. “I have to keep the cast on for six weeks, and I am forbidden from doing any exercises at that time. The crutches must be used in the beginning, to reduce the weight I put on my knee.” He rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side. “I have some basic exercises to do later on, to keep the muscles and ligaments around my knee stronger. The bad news is I’m going to lose a lot of muscle strength while _this_ heals.” He flicked the top of his cast.

“But it will heal?” Iwaizumi watched his face, waiting for the crack that would cause Oikawa to crumble.

Oikawa glanced around the room, before shrugging and meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes. “The doctor said I should heal back to normal. But…” He broke off to rub his hands down his face. “I’ll have to wear a brace all the time, and I have to stop pushing myself as hard. I’ll need to take more breaks. Otherwise, it could dislocate again and wreck my knee completely.” He crossed his arms and glared at the wall.

Iwaizumi gaped at him. “But Oikawa, that’s great!” he gasped, leaning closer. “You don’t have to give up volleyball! You’ll still be my setter!” Without stopping to think, he leant forward and wrapped Oikawa in a hug. It was uncomfortable due to the angle, but Oikawa didn’t seem to mind, resting his forehead on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Iwa-chan,” he murmured against Iwaizumi’s neck.

Iwaizumi pulled away, smiling. “So what if you have to wear a brace? Big deal. I’ll keep an eye on you and stop you from getting hurt again. You can focus on getting better, alright?”

“I’ll try,” Oikawa sighed, but it was obvious he still doubted.

That’s alright. Iwaizumi would help him understand. “Hey.” He waited until Oikawa looked at him. “You’re strong. You’ll get through this. Be brave.” He nudged Oikawa’s leg. “Now’s the time to be fearless.”

Oikawa studied Iwaizumi’s face, searching for dishonesty. Finding none, a grin quirked his lips up. “You always know what to say, Iwa-chan.” He leant back onto his pillows. “Okay. I promise to be fearless. Just for you! I’ll get through this and come out on top, like I always do.” He flicked his hair off his forehead. “Watch me!” Holding out a fist, Oikawa waited.

Iwaizumi bumped their fists together. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

**… … …**

**5.**

Iwaizumi picked up the three envelopes, hands shaking with trepidation. This was it; now he’d find out if his applications to his top three universities had been successful. His future sat in his hands. New pathways would open up before him; he’d applied for the sports medicine courses, wanting to help people.

Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi dropped the letters onto the table and grabbed the first one. He’d open them in reverse order; least preferred first. Iwaizumi almost wished he could stop here, leave the future in the future and remain in a place where time stood still. Everything was easy now; he knew his place in the world. Sometimes change wasn’t good, and the unknown was cruel. But Iwaizumi was not a coward, so he steeled himself and ripped open the letter.

_Congratulations, Iwaizumi Hajime, your application has been successful._

He stopped reading after the first line, his breath leaving him in a rush. His first acceptance. Even if the next two were rejections, he had a future spot at college assured. His heart pounding, he repeated the process with the second letter.

Another acceptance. His second choice was an excellent university for sports medicine. Even if his first choice fell through, he would still be proud to be a student of his second choice.

Wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, Iwaizumi picked up the final letter. This was it. Once he opened this, his life would change forever.

_Congratulations, Iwai-_

He didn’t need to read any further. He’d been accepted.

He punched the air and hollered, jumping up and down in triumph. If ever an occasion called for celebration, this was it. Thankfully his parents were out of the house, so he didn't have to explain why he'd started dancing and yelling.

Grabbing his phone, he speed-dialled Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa's voice chirped through the phone. “Let me guess, you got your acceptance letters too?”

“Sure did.” Iwaizumi flopped down onto his bed, his eyes landing on the letters on the desk. He paused, letting the anticipation build. “All three of them. I was accepted to all of them!” He beamed, stretching out on the bed.

“Well done Iwa-chan!” Oikawa screeched, banging sounds coming through the phone's tinny speakers. He'd probably dropped something while talking. “Me too!” he continued, voice ecstatic. “I got my top preference!”

“Oikawa, that's great! I know how worried you were.” Iwaizumi sighed, a weight off his chest. Both his and Oikawa's futures were secured.

“Pah!” Oikawa snorted, but didn't deny it further. “Iwa-chan, are you busy now?” he hummed after a moment, voice carefully neutral.

Iwaizumi smirked, knowing where this was going. “Nope.” He clicked his tongue, humming for a moment. “You can come around,” he announced finally. “Bring snacks.”

“Iwa-chan, you were supposed to wait for me to ask!” Oikawa whined.

Iwaizumi could picture him pouting at the phone. “You basically live here anyway, you don't need to ask. Grab some junk food and let's celebrate. I might even let you pick the movie.” He stopped and scowled at his TV. “Unless it's one of your shitty alien movies.”

Oikawa huffed and protested that his movies weren't shitty, but promised to be around soon.

While he waited, Iwaizumi fetched bowls and cups from the kitchen and cleared his desk to put them on. He turned on the DVD player, leaving it on the welcome screen.

Oikawa's arrival was heralded by a cry of “Iwa-chan!” and the door banging into the wall. He swept into Iwaizumi's bedroom, a bottle of fizzy drink in each hand and a bag full of chips, popcorn, and lollies hanging off one arm. “Time to celebrate our success!” he cheered, placing the bottle on Iwaizumi's desk and unceremoniously dropping the bag. Within seconds, he'd poured them both a drink and opened a bag of popcorn.

“Sounds good to me,” Iwaizumi agreed, holding up two DVDs for Oikawa to choose from.

Oikawa shot them both down, offering one of his alien movies instead. From there, conversation turned into a debate. Eventually, they settled on a compromise and sat down to watch.

One movie turned into two, and then into a third. Halfway through the third movie, Oikawa shuffled closer and nuzzled into Iwaizumi's neck. His hands tangled in Iwaizumi’s shirt.

Iwaizumi frowned at him, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down on the movie. “You okay?” Usually when Oikawa acted like this, something was wrong. Whether Oikawa would acknowledge what was bothering him was another story.

Oikawa sighed and buried his face in Iwaizumi's shoulder. “You know what?” he began, his words muffled by Iwaizumi's shirt. “We're going to different universities, aren't we?” Oikawa leaned back, linking his fingers together and dropping them in his lap. He wouldn't look at Iwaizumi.

“Yes?” Iwaizumi drew out the word, brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what path Oikawa's thoughts were going down. “That's sort of a given, since we applied for different universities.” He poked Oikawa's forehead, hoping his comment would draw out an explanation.

“I mean,” Oikawa whispered, “we won't be so close anymore.” He nudged Iwaizumi's arm to emphasise his point. “Like this,” he gestured between them. “We won't be able to hang out as much, or watch movies all the time, or grab lunch on the way home from practice.”

Iwaizumi went rigid, finally understanding what Oikawa was getting at. It hadn't occurred to him that they'd be splitting up. Of course Oikawa would have realised the implications instantly. A big part of his identity was his relationship to his friends and team. His identity was everything to him; he was always careful to portray his smooth, put together persona. Even when it was a lie. Iwaizumi was his voice of reason, keeping him grounded and reassuring him when the pressures of life and volleyball and responsibility dragged him down. Who else would put up with Oikawa when he was in a mood? “Hey,” he said, voice low.

Oikawa blinked at him, long lashes brushing his cheek. “Iwa-chan?” He bit his lip, the nervous gesture a precursor to full blown panic.

“Just because we won't get to hang out all the time doesn't mean we won't still be friends.” Iwaizumi told him, pinching his cheek. “You nominated yourself my best friend years ago, and I can't be bothered finding a new one.” _You're the most important person to me_. “So don't act like it's the end of the world.” He shrugged and leaned back. “We'll have our phones, just text me when you want to talk. And we could probably Skype most weekends.”

Oikawa stared at him with wide eyes, before bursting into laughter. “Iwa-chan, you didn't even give me a chance to freak out before you started suggesting practical solutions!” His laughter died off, and his face fell. “That won't stop me from missing you, though.”

Iwaizumi agreed with that sentiment. They'd been friends for so long that contemplating life without Oikawa dominating his time was unthinkable. He draped an arm around Oikawa's shoulders and leant his head on top of Oikawa's fluffy hair. “I'm gonna miss you too,” he admitted. He'd miss all the strange little quirks that made up Oikawa Tooru. The prancing and preening, the dedication to volleyball, the fondness for milk bread. The way Oikawa always smiled when he saw Iwaizumi in the morning and did the peace sign. His annoying habit of wriggling his way into Iwaizumi's bed when he stayed over, despite having a perfectly good futon. These were a part of Iwaizumi's life, and he mourned their loss. But there were new memories to be made, and he refused to wallow in sadness.

Oikawa's body started shaking, and he ducked his head, hiding his face. “Sorry,” he sniffed, hands balled up in Iwaizumi's shirt. “I'm happy we got in, I really am. But I'm not sure I'm ready to face the future just yet. A future without Iwa-chan taking care of me.”

Iwaizumi snorted and raised an eyebrow at him. “Oi, moron, don't think you'll get away with screwing around!” He punched Oikawa's shoulder, using the minimum of force. Just enough to get his point across. “I'm still going to text you to tell you to eat dinner, and you'd better not be staying up until the early hours of the morning watching game footage.” Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, and tugged on a piece of Oikawa's hair. “Take care of yourself. Because if I meet up with you and you look like shit, I'm gonna punch your face.”

“Not my pretty face!” Oikawa squealed, covering his face with his hands. “Iwa-chan, how could you be so cruel? The girls like my pretty face too much!” His words were delivered in true Oikawa fashion; dramatic and over the top, but the smile pulling up his lips gave him away.

“Feeling better?” Iwaizumi adjusted their position so they were sitting side by side.

Oikawa slouched to the side, enough to allow his head to rest on Iwaizumi's shoulder. “Yep! Iwa-chan is the bestest best friend ever.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi said, voice deadpan. “But hey, just remember: you're strong and brave, alright? Be fearless. You'll be fine, and your future will be glorious.”

Oikawa swept his hair back, his hand hitting the side of Iwaizumi's jaw. “Whoops, sorry!” he laughed, patting the same spot gently. “I won't let you down, Iwa-chan. I'll be the most fearless student of them all!”

Iwaizumi laughed at him. “Sure you will. Loser,” he teased.

Oikawa shrieked and threw a pillow at him.

**… … …**

**+1**

Iwaizumi scanned the disembarking passengers, looking for sweeping brown hair and a lanky figure. When Oikawa appeared, he waved his arms above his head. “Oikawa, hey! Over here!”

Oikawa looked up and saw him, his face splitting into a grin. “Iwa-chan!” he yelled, racing over and throwing himself at Iwaizumi. “It's been forever since I've seen you. And so long since you're seen my pretty face,” he sang, flicking his hair back.

Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi punched him in the shoulder, before pulling him into a one armed hug. “It's only been two months and you know it.” He let the moment sit, just glad to have Oikawa near him again. He'd never admit how much he missed Oikawa's histrionics, or the empty space in his bed where Oikawa liked to tuck himself in. Those things weren't something you admitted out loud. Confessions like that were saved for late nights huddled under blankets while alien movies played in the background. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, Iwaizumi cast about for small talk. “So, how's your course going?”

Oikawa groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “There's so much to do! Homework and study, and that's besides the time spent training with the team. I have no social life!” he wailed, turning his woeful gaze on Iwaizumi. “You should feel sorry for me.”

“I don't,” Iwaizumi said, ruffling Oikawa's hair. If his hand lingered in Oikawa's hair, neither of them mentioned it. “Besides, you text me all the time. It's not like you're completely cut off from social contact.”

“It's not the same!” Oikawa insisted, placing his hands on his hips and pouting. “I miss doing all our usual things.”

Iwaizumi did too, but he didn't want to have such a personal conversation at the train station, in the public eye. “Come on, let's go back to my apartment. My roommate's out for the night with his boyfriend, so we have the place to ourselves. You can catch me up on everything I've missed.” Iwaizumi led them to the exit. “I have junk food and movies,” he threw over his shoulder.

“That's exactly what I need right now,” Oikawa sighed happily, flashing his radiant smile.

…

Iwaizumi's apartment was small, with only the necessities. Still, the place was clean and his roommate was a decent guy. That was a plus. He showed Oikawa to his bedroom, indicating that Oikawa should put his stuff on the floor for now, and asked if he wanted a drink.

Drinks in hand, they wandered back into Iwaizumi's room. Oikawa jumped on the bed, his soft hair bouncing around his face.

Iwaizumi's fingers tingled, remembering how it felt to touch that hair. He frowned and shook his head, wondering where this was coming from.

Oikawa flopped backwards, stretching his arms above his head and revealing an inch of flat stomach. “It'll be just like old times, Iwa-chan!” he proclaimed.

Iwaizumi stared at the expanse of skin revealed. He'd seen Oikawa naked before; one patch of stomach should not be making his mouth dry and his heart rate increase. Iwaizumi swallowed and went to throw a DVD into the player, hoping to distract himself from his thoughts.

Oikawa sat up, enough to swing his long legs over to the side so Iwaizumi could join him on the bed. Once Iwaizumi was seated, he snuggled into Iwaizumi's side, tucking his head in the crook of Iwaizumi's neck. “There, all comfy,” he hummed.

Comfortable for him, maybe. Iwaizumi was more concerned at the way Oikawa's body moulded into his, and the scent of coconut that kept wafting from his hair. The movie started, and Iwaizumi could not bring himself to focus on it. All his attention was on the heat curled into his side, and the gentle brush of soft hair against his jaw. Where had his concentration gone? It was like the two month separation had forced Iwaizumi to _notice_ Oikawa. Things that would have been ignored in the past were now brought to the forefront of his mind, highlighted by the time spent apart.

Oikawa didn't seem to notice Iwaizumi's preoccupation, his attention caught by the movie. Every so often he would wriggle with excitement, and at one point he rested his hand on Iwaizumi's thigh, seemingly without care.

The physical contact was doing things to Iwaizumi's pulse. Since when had he been so affected by someone's presence? This was _Oikawa_ , his best friend since childhood. Why the hell would he keep staring at Oikawa’s hair, wanting to touch it. Or wanting to put an arm around his shoulder and adjust their positions so Oikawa was resting against his chest. And why the ever loving hell would he want to know what Oikawa’s lip gloss tasted like-

Oh.

_Oh._

_Shit._

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa's profile, the realisation slowly dawning.

He _liked_ Oikawa. He had _romantic feelings_ for his best friend. Iwaizumi groaned out loud, flinging his arms over his face. “I'm so _dumb_ ,” he whimpered, wondering if college was frying his brain cells. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the best when it came to relationships, but he should still be able to understand _his own damn feelings_.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa glanced up at him, chocolate eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

Iwaizumi took one look at those eyes and barked a laugh. Now what the hell did he do? Did he admit his realisation out loud? _He liked Oikawa_. Would admitting it break their friendship beyond repair, or would Oikawa just ignore it, pretend it never happened? He stared at Oikawa.

Oikawa stared back, his gaze concerned. But he kept silent, waiting for Iwaizumi to gather his thoughts.

Iwaizumi sighed, knowing he couldn't hide this. Oikawa deserved to know, and Iwaizumi couldn't let himself be a coward. “I like you,” he said out loud, heat creeping up his face. “As in...romantically.” He was awful at this. “You do have a pretty face.” This was the lamest confession in the history of confessions, but Iwaizumi kept going. “I figured you should know how I felt. I like you, Oikawa.” He repeated, rubbing the back of his neck and dropping his gaze.

Oikawa gaped at him, lips parted and hands clasped to his chest. “Iwa-chan, do you really mean it?” he whispered, reaching out a hand to touch Iwaizumi's chest. “You're not...this isn't a joke, is it? You really like me?” His voice was so _hopeful_.

Iwaizumi gave a rueful smile. “Yeah, I like you.” He scrubbed his red cheeks and groaned. “I think I've always liked you. I just didn't figure it out until now.” He shrugged and held out his hands. “Maybe it's because you were always there; I never realised how much you meant to me until you were gone.” Iwaizumi wanted to gag himself. That had to be the sappiest thing he'd ever said in his life. “Anyway,” he trailed off, sighing. “Now you know how I feel. If it bothers you, I understand.” He had to force himself to say the next words. “I won't hold it against you if you don't want to be around me any-”

Oikawa's lips pressing against his cut off any further protests. “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathed, his hands gripping Iwaizumi's face. “Is this a dream?” He smiled then, his beaming, radiant smile. Oikawa didn't seem to need a response, leaning forward to kiss him again.

While the warmth of Oikawa's mouth was nice, as was the fact that somehow Oikawa had ended up sitting in his lap, Iwaizumi needed answers. What did this mean for them? He pulled away, catching his breath. “So...uhh...” How did he put this into words?

“So eloquent,” Oikawa snickered, resting his hands on either side of Iwaizumi's neck.

“Shut up dumbass.” Iwaizumi glared at him, knowing his red face lessened the impact. “I'm trying to ask you what we're doing!”

“Kissing?” Oikawa suggested, leaning forward to do just that.

Iwaizumi met him halfway, enjoying the slide of their lips together and the way Oikawa's lips parted under his. Once again he pulled away, and flicked Oikawa's nose. “Cute. But what I meant was, are we dating now?” Oikawa had kissed him; that meant he was interested, right? “Do you even want to date me?” he asked, suddenly unsure of himself.

“Of course I do!” Oikawa sounded offended, rocking back in Iwaizumi's lap to put his hands on his hips. “Hajime! I've been in love with you for years you dense moron!”

Iwaizumi blinked at him. “You what?” Had he missed something? A signal, or some sign of interest in him that Oikawa had displayed?

Oikawa groaned and pressed their foreheads together. “Hajime,” he drawled, breath ghosting over Iwaizumi's face. “For such a smart guy, you can be really stupid sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi agreed, giving it up as a lost cause. He _was_ dense if it had taken him this long to realise.

“I'd like to date you,” Oikawa said, almost shyly. He trailed his hands along Iwaizumi's scalp, tangling his fingers through Iwaizumi's hair. “Hey, you know what?” He said, voice sly and a smirk tilting up his lips. “That was the weirdest confession I've ever gotten,” he laughed, pulling back to watch Iwaizumi's reaction.

Iwaizumi dropped his hands to rest on Oikawa's hips. “Doesn't surprise me,” he mumbled, ducking his head.

Oikawa grazed his lips over Iwaizumi's forehead, his temple, his cheek. “Then again, it's so _you_.” He started giggling, his whole body shaking. “It was so...calm! Most girls are shy, and they stammer when they give me their cards. You just said it outright! Straight to the point.”

Iwaizumi started laughing too, unable to help himself. “Well, it surprised me. I decided you needed to know, and that was it. I said it.”

“My Hajime,” Oikawa hums, kissing him again. “So strong.” He trails his fingertips over Iwaizumi's biceps, though it's obvious that's not what he was talking about. “You've always been the brave one.” He's smiling his radiant smile, eyes shining. Leaning in once more, he presses his lips to Iwaizumi's and whispers against them, “You've always been _fearless._ ”  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr: [aerococonut](http://aerococonut.tumblr.com) to chat and [aerodraws](http://aerodraws.tumblr.com) is my artblog!
> 
> I'm offering fanfic commissions, check my profile if you're interested!


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